sam makes crappy graphics

earth girls are easy

“Holy shit, there’s a giant hairdryer in the pool,” Darcy exclaims. She drags her headphones off, wincing at the strands of her hair that go with it.

The hairdryer is yellow and red, a few shades off from Natasha’s hair color–this week anyway. It might not be a hairdryer–they didn’t normally come without a cord–but it definitely isn’t a car. And definitely, definitely isn’t real.

“Okay, Darcy, it’s fine, just chill out. It’s just an illusion. Bad energy from Ian. Totally not real,” she says to herself. Ian wasn’t evil, not like that neo-nazi Spencer working at the Vape Lounge by Curl Up & Dye who kept asking her tits out. But he was a controlling douche-nozzle who was too busy boinking everyone but her to go on a third date. Gaslighting walnut. “Right, positive thinking, D. The hairdryer isn’t there and you can jump in and swim right through it.”

She drops her phone and headphones onto the lounger and dives into the pool head-first. It’s not her best decision.

The hairdryer is very, very, real and very solid. Just like the lump on her head.

“Oh my gawd,” Darcy screeches, scrambling back from the blue furry thing hovering over her. “This is not happening. Is it?”

“Ziz zit,” says the blue alien.

“Sizzz it,” echo two more furry figures, one red with a shiny yellow arm, the other Big Bird yellow.

“Oh gawd, it is. I’m on a spaceship. I’ve been abducted by Teletubbies. This is all banana-balls. I mean, why would you wanna abduct me? My roommate Jane maybe, she’s like super smart, or Helen down the block, who’s, like, just as smart. And me, I’m just a manicurist with an awesome music collection. Oh gawd, you’re gonna probe me aren’t you? I’m super not into furries, so, like, yanno, your kink is not my kink?”

“Miii ink-k,” says blue.

“My kink-k,” says the yellow alien.

“Kink-ee,” says red.

“Wow, you learn quick. Yeah, I just wanna go home and not be in a magazine next to an article about the Jersey Devil and Bat Boy having brunch with Elvis,” Darcy says backing up slowly. “Wait, are we still in my pool?”

“Okay you guys, what’s the plan for tonight?” Natasha asks as she twists a lock of her red hair around her finger.

“Whoa, Natasha, reality check. We can’t go out with these guys, they’re aliens!” Darcy protests.

“So? They can still be dates,” Nat says. The corner of her mouth turns up as she eyes the three alien men standing for them. “You should know that, after all, it was your roommate that ran off and married one.”

“Thor is not a space alien! He’s from Ikea? No, Iceland, ugh, I don’t know. Anyways, there’s a difference between illegal aliens and the outer space kind!”

“But look at them, Darcy. They’re hot.”

“So, hot,” Darcy agrees. Sta-eeev turns his head towards her, eyebrows arching up on his fur free face. Embarrassment heats Darcy’s face and she jerks her eyes over to where Zam and B-uk-ee are trying on sunglasses from Natasha’s vast collection.

“Come on it’ll be fun,” Natasha says. A predatory smirk works its way across her face. “Not-So-Little-Boy-Blue for you…and I’ll take Sam-”

“Zam,” Zam says across the room.

“…and the one with the metal arm too,” Nat says, a smile sharp as her best hair scissors lighting up her face.

“DeeDee, I need you to come see something,” Sam says, grabbing at the bags in Darcy’s hands and following her into her apartment.

“It’s not office hours. No can do, Wilson.”

“It’s not an Avengers thing. I swear to Thor.”

“That’s what they all say. FYI you need to stop saying that.”

“I swear to Thor or calling you DeeDee?” Sam grins, setting the bags on the coffee table and peeking in the one from Steve’s favorite bakery.

“What do you think? and hands off the goods,” she says, slapping his hand away from the bag. She misses, rolling her eyes at Sam’s beaming grin. “Look, Samuel, my feet hurt and the only place I am going is to get my jammies on and rescue the last carton of Ben & Jerry’s from behind the frozen corn, before I Skype Rogers.” she mentally adds cupcakes to the list but Sam really doesn’t need to know her future calorie intake.

“Nobody eats frozen corn.”

“Duh,” Darcy smirks, unwinding the damp scarf from around her neck and looping it over the hook beside her coat. “And Steve likes frozen corn.”

“He doesn’t count.”

“You’re telling me that Captain America is weird?”

“I didn’t say that, but it’s true enough. I don’t know how you can stand to live with him.”

“Well…”

“Nope. No, nada. Do not want to know,” Sam says making a cutting motion with his hands. “So…?”

“No.”

“What if I told you I left James in charge of my sister’s kids?”

read more on AO3

“I’m adorable,” Darcy says. She’s balancing a pine branch on her head as they head down the trail.

“I’m not arguing that.”

“I can hear a but coming. Other than your glorious ass on the trail.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Steve snorts holding a branch aside for Darcy to pass beside him.

“My back still hurts.”

“I said I was sorry?”

“No you promised me a real bed and a bubble bath and not a campground on the side of the road filled with the great unwashed and an a gaggle of twelve year old perverts.”

“They were a family.”

“They weren’t ogling your tits.”

“The mother wouldn’t take her eyes off my ass.”

“Well it is a beautiful specimen.”

“It’s all done with mirrors, you know.”

The trail through the woods leads around a sharp corner and the view between the trees shows a little cabin. Or to Darcy’s thinking the ass end of some sort of serial killer’s outhouse. “I am not really seeing the glamour in this glamping thing,” Darcy frowns.

“It’s a roof and a bed,” Steve says, biting the inside of his lip. He digs the key out of his pocket.

“Did we take the wrong path?” Darcy asks shifting her backpack strap for the millionth time. “Damn no signal here.” Darcy frowns lifting her iPhone above her head.

“Did you really think there would be?”

“All I know is you promised me a bubble bath and if there isn’t there will be dire consequence for the lack of comfort and wifi.”

“I’m a man of my word,” Steve says. He the key in the lock. It fits and the door opens to a warmly lit room. One wall is completely made from old glass windows. Several windows overlooking a tiny little brook are open, keeping the place from turning into a greenhouse despite the brisk autumn breeze.

“Liar…oooh…oh it’s so cute. And there is a bathtub.”

“You like it?”

“It’ll do, one you run me a bath.”

“Any other orders?”

“Bath first, then we shall see what else you can do for me.”